New Ulm weekly review. [volume] (New Ulm, Minn.) 1878-1892, 1887-02-09
A Gang of Real Anarchists.

New York Letter.
Iwent the other day to see agango OF
real anarchists. They were plotting,
as usual, in Adolf schlag's ersaloon
over on the east side. 1t was here
that the Kohut fire bugs, now instate
prison, were accustomed to meet and
discuss their schemes. It's general ap.
pearance does not differ from hun
dreds of its class. The tables are ar
ranged along the room, and at some
hours are, occupied by men slipping
their beer and all talking at once. II
you are q stranger you may take a
seat within foot OF a table full of So
cialists, and not one of them will pay
the least heed to your presence, but
all will continue the discussion of the
Chicago case, or any thing else, with
out the least reserve or restraint.
Schlag, a short, mild -mannered man
with a prodigious moustache, will
come from behind the counter to wait
upon you, and after bringing beer, or
Rhine wine, will offer the newspapers
in English and German. The first
thing you observe is the number of
pictures of Henry George scattered
about the place. Behind the bar is
q large imperial photograph OF
him; a cabinet picture stands be-
side one of Lucy Parsons among the
decanters, and campaign Autographs
OF the bald headed author adorn the
walls. Hanging at one side OF the room
is a blackboard in q picture frame,
and upon this some patrons with tai
emit for caricature display their ac-
complishments. A coach dog that has
been doing behind the stove jumps
up and invites a drink. He prefers
beer. Buthe won't drink fat beer he
knows it, and he shifts contemptuous-
~ at the pail of stale drippings. He
wants plenty of froth, and when the
spigot is turned, and the drip enHven-
ed with a little deceptive foam, he
makes away with a quart easily and
hicks his lips approvingly The occu-
pants OF the table appear to be too
familiar with these oddities to bestow
more than casual notice upon them.
They drink their beer and gravelydis.
cuss all sorts of schemes Tor reforming
the world and abolishing the police
department. 1T was here at Schlag's
that Lucy Parsons, wife of the Chica-
go condemned anarchist, lived while
lecturing in this part of the country.
Schlag accompanied her on her trips
once in a while, and while waiting
for him to get ready she would come
down into the saloon and sit by the
stove. She was treated with grave
respect and kindly sympathy, and
none intruded upon her as she sat
there, wrapped in her own sad
thoughts, all unconscious of those
around her. 1t was here that she re-
ceived a telegram from her husband,
saying that all the prisoners refused
mercy. Her eyes lighted up as she
rose to her feet and read the dispatch
to her friends. Good" she said;
I've always told them to demand
justice, not mercy" and all present
nodded an emphatic approval. There
was nothing forced about the scene.
It was quiet, natural and unconscious;
but when this dark-skinned woman,
worn and weary with her labors, hol-
low-eyed and yet not unhandsome.
stood up amid the grim, bearded Ger
mans, and calmly approved her hus-
bands refusal to accept his life at
the price of his beliefs and principles
mistaken though these might belt
was dramatic.